Mr Selfdestruct
by Tiani Lunaris
Summary: Say what ever they can about the practicality of brooms and flying carpets, but nothing could compare with driving a 1200 cc Harley, close to 300kmph in the middle of the night...
1. Default Chapter

He was speeding down the road far above the speed limit. He didn't care what was going on around him, nor did he take any notice of the flashing lights behind him. 

He lived for the moment and the moment was now. It was just the way he wanted things to be. Right on the razor edge… Hell. It was better than sitting and cutting yourself, wasn't it? But it didn't mean he hadn't done so…

Crimson drops escaped the tough leather jacket, and stained his black jeans. Some scorched on to the hot engine of his recently bought motorbike, while other splattered on the wet asphalt road. His brown hair had grown long, and was flowing freely in the fierce wind. A cigarette was glowing in his mouth, and mingled with the whiskey in his breath. 

He didn't care. 

A squad car came out next to him calling to him over the megaphone to pull over that instant. He just glanced over at them before flicking them the finger and accelerating even more. He heard the car screech to a halt behind him as he knew they saw the blood stains on his hands, and the cold glare in his eyes. He just laughed a hollow laughter, which didn't reach to become more than a mare couple of low ha's. 

It didn't matter. He didn't care.

He would have ridden a broomstick, but it didn't give the same thrill. Besides, you wouldn't have all these people chasing you if you were on a broomstick. He didn't care much about the helmet laws around Europe, nor did he care about the bans and rules of many things in the muggle societies. He liked the smoking, he enjoyed the drinking, and he loved the driving without helmets in high, high speeds. 

He didn't care…

Cutting a corner much too closely for the pursuers to dare to endeavour themselves in to the same feat, he grinned for the first time. 

Man did he love his bike. Say what ever they can about the practicality of brooms and flying carpets and anything they can come up with, nothing could compare with driving a 1200 cc Harley, close to 300km/ph in the middle of the night. 

Nothing could compare with the raw engine power, which was vibrating ferociously beneath him where he was sitting comfortably on the softly upholstered leather seat. Sure a broom gave you a certain amount of freedom, but the freedom you got on the bike was something completely different. It was unimaginable. The vision of the bare roads, free from all other drivers to spoil your fun (well, with the exception of the persistent coppers behind you), and when you realised it was only you, the road, and the roaring bike beneath you… nothing could beat that rush. 

They didn't want him to care about that.

It was lulling. It was hypnotising. It was more mesmerizing than anything in the world. It was like a perfect drug, of which you needed more, and more every day. You had to relive it over and over again. He needed it more than he needed the fame and fortune he had. He needed it more than any sex in the world could give him. He needed it so badly every day he couldn't wait until the night. He had to go on to the road…

It was the only thing he cared about.

The crimson liquid kept dripping in a steady pace from his sleeves, giving those who would follow a macabre trail to lead them to an uncertain origin. Even more droplets fell on to the now scorching engine filling the air in his wake with the scent of burnt blood, which was only a step better from the stench of burnt flesh… 

It wasn't his concern. He didn't care... 

He was about to take a sharp left curve, when the front lights of a late night bus came out. 

Freezing up, he forgot to release the accelerator, to pump the ABS-brakes, to fulfil the swing… it was too late anyway. He was keeping too high a speed for the chance of braking up before the road ended. 

Then his mind went blank.

He stopped caring.


	2. Mr Selfdestruct 02 News from different c...

The muggle news agencies: 

There has been a tragic accident around midnight this night where an unknown male in his early thirties was killed while escaping the police. He had been about to make a turn when a tour bus came up from the opposite direction, and the biker lost control over the bike and drove off a cliff... Experts tells us this is common cause for biker accidents, and is most common amongst the inexperienced drivers while faced with a curve. It can come from the oncoming lights of a meeting vehicle, or just focusing on a point straight ahead. 

Our contacts on the scene tells us the John Doe biker flew approximately a half a kilometre out before plunging down 300 metres to the ground below, which luckily for the search party was cultivated farmland. The police tell us he was driving above 200km\ph.

We haven't yet gotten to know the autopsy reports, but we strongly believe he was strongly influenced by alcohol, and or some other narcotic substances. 

A policeman who got a closer look at John Doe biker, tells us he saw blood dripping from the unknown males hands, and that he looked rather pale. 

More to come in later newscasts…

The wizarding world: 

A tragic day indeed for the wizarding community over loosing one of our most outstanding icons of this time. 

In collaboration with our muggle associates, whom has promised not to mention any personal information about our late wizard, tells us he was driving a muggle device called a "motorcycle"(a more in-depth information about this device is to be found on page 12), drove over a cliff and died. The main cause of death is the massive force with which he hit the ground, though the morgue technicians believes he might have been dead before impact. 

"We are not sure, but the series of old and new scars, in addition to several deep cuts in his arms, we believe our deceased wizard might have died from a severe blood loss. A theory supported by a witness statement, made by a muggle officer. 

"…I tried to tell him to pull over, but he just looked coldly at me, and gave me the finger. That was when I noticed the odd complexion of the victim, and his bloodied hands. My commander who was driving saw the same things, and stopped in shock. I will never forget those lifeless eyes, telling me to piss off and leave him be…"

These are the words of the officer who was the last one to see our deceased hero alive.

More news about this as soon as either we, or our muggle colleagues get to know anything…

We are deeply saddened over the loss of our beloved Quidditch hero, Victor Krum. 

May you rest in peace.


	3. Mr Selfdestruct 03 Authors ramblings

Authors note:

This is the author's note to Mr. Selfdestruct, and I must at once send out a disclaimer.

No I do not own any of the characters, I only own the very depressive plot which will probably make you guys hate me forever… But it is a truth we must face every day. 

It might not happen to anyone in your close vicinity at this time of your lives, but at some point or another you'll loose a loved one in traffic. Be it deliberate as this story was (though I really AM uncertain on whether he wanted to kill himself. It all just came natural, like I was telling something which had happened. Like the person who died tried to tell what had happened through me… I know it might sound silly. Don't have any powers like that any way. Would've been cool though…), or by a freak accident of being in the wrong place at the wrong time… Personally, I don't think there is too much of that last thing… People go when they are due to go.

This fic is inspired (again a "song fic") by a Nine Inch Nails song with the same title. You see. Don't own that either… Only thing is the plot, though that might be taken by someone already. 

Well… it's as original as I could get it…

The reason why I wrote about a bike is because I drive one myself. Not a huge one like Victor in this story, but a 125cc Starway, Shun Lan. Though it won't go faster than 100 km/ph, it is still an experience to drive top speed down a completely deserted road(usually listening to HIM) in the middle of the night, and the only company you have is the night and the truckers who gives you a "lift" in their wake… the pull those things make is enormous. Efficient, warm, and energy saving… *sighs * Can't wait until summer season starts again… it's so much fun.

Hope you like this story. I loved reading it, and I think some biker or two might like it… Think it captures the beauty of driving a bike during the night, at the same time as it warns about ignorance, stupidity, and, to me, most dangerous bit of it all… indifference, and lack of fear while facing different situations. 

Read and review, as I do the same to you…

Commander Tiani Lunaris, signing off. Stardate 02.03.04, home world time 0341am.

Over and out *kshhhhhhh *


End file.
